


the royal we

by mixtapestar



Series: Queliot Week 2020 [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Crafts, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e13 No Better To Be Safe Than Sorry, Quentin Coldwater Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: Queliot Week Day 5: "Not everything can be mended."Quentin tries to fix his crown.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: Queliot Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017429
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	the royal we

Quentin is in his workshop, where he spends most of his time these days when Eliot's not home. He's strangely free of mending cases at the moment, and his work with Kady is on hold while she searches out new safehouses for her latest batch of hedges. So instead, he's working on a personal project today.

Three hours in, though, and he's not having much luck. He doesn't understand why, because a Fillorian crown should be able to withstand fire, even magical fire, just based on how it was created. The crowns had been blessed with water from Chatwin's Torrent, for Christ's sake. Of course, Plover may have been bullshitting that part; he never knows anymore.

His former crown almost holds the same shape that it had when he received it, but it bears several burn marks and looks irreparably warped when he tries to put it on. No manner of approach to mending it has worked, and one attempt even flipped half of it to face upside-down.

He takes a break to drink water, then returns to his work, thinking back on the circumstances of receiving the crown, how Margo had smirked at him as she placed it on his head. He tries again, and this time the metal warps again, not better, but worse.

The frustration building within him suddenly boils over, and he screams and throws the scrap of metal at the wall, where it makes a satisfying clanging noise. Of course, because that's how his life works, that's when Eliot finds him.

"Not going well, I take it? Anything I can help with?" Eliot goes to the corner where his once-a-crown now lies, pausing before he bends down to pick it up. "Is this…?"

Quentin nods miserably. "I wanted to fix it. Stupid of me to think I could have something from my life before."

Eliot sets the crown down on the table before wrapping his arm around Quentin's shoulders. Quentin leans into his shoulder without hesitation, welcoming the comfort. "I understand the impulse, but there are plenty of other things we have from back then. The 'Cuba' snowglobe, for example."

"I know. I just—being a king of Fillory was such a big deal to me. And this is supposed to be the one thing I'm good at."

Eliot's hand runs up and down his arm soothingly. "It's not your fault. Not everything can be mended, Q."

He knows that, on a logical level, but nothing about this situation has seemed logical. He feels ridiculous, suddenly, for being so emotional about a hunk of metal.

"You know," Eliot points out, "I don't have my crown anymore either. It went with the job title, for High King. And Margo's not about to give up her Margo the Destroyer crown." Quentin laughs, imagining how _that_ conversation would go. Eliot's voice is bright when he continues, "We can make new crowns. Just because we don't have the originals doesn't mean we weren't kings of Fillory."

"That sounds nice," Quentin says, "but I know next to nothing about metal forging, other than what I've seen at the Renaissance Faire, and I'm pretty sure you know even less."

"Who said anything about metal?" Eliot asks.

And that's how they wind up with a kitchen table full of arts and crafts supplies in the middle of the day on a random Tuesday.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Quentin says, laughing as he wrestles the pink glitter glue away from Eliot.

"Hey, I'm just saying, crowns at the right price point mean you can have one for every occasion. Don't use all of that, I still need it for my sleepover crown."

"I love how the cashier asked us how big our class was. As if you would ever allow a child to wear one of your crowns."

"I would've made an exception for Teddy," Eliot says, inspecting his main crown to see if his last layer of plastic adornments had dried yet.

Quentin swallows at the casual mention of Teddy, as if to imply that Eliot thinks of him as much as Quentin does. "He would've wanted a green one," he says when he can trust his voice again. "To match his favorite cloak."

"Of course," Eliot says, reaching for the green metallic paper immediately. "Oh, we should've gotten those squirrel charms, they'd be perfect for this."

"He always loved those talking squirrels."

Eliot cuts out the crown expertly while Quentin sketches Teddy's favorite mosaic pattern, a red cardinal.

Halfway through adorning Teddy's crown, Quentin takes a moment to process what they're doing, and the utter joy he feels in making their own keepsakes, even for moments they can't commemorate with actual items.

"Thank you for this," he says, setting aside his paintbrush and laying his hand overtop of Eliot's. "It's super cheesy and exactly what I needed."

"It's actually just an excuse," Eliot says, the affection in his eyes telling a different story. "I've been wanting my own crown collection for years."

"Of course," Quentin says, leaning in for a kiss. "Well, we'd better make sure these are perfect, then."

"Naturally."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are love! <3


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